… So yeah, there’s this ugly, searing side of grief: raw grief. It’s the side that books and movies give little credence to. It’s the side that rips the skin off our bones, shreds our hearts into pieces, and exposes each of our vulnerabilities to a seemingly gawking world.
Raw grief. The commode hugging, puke our lonely devastated guts out, raw side of grief.
The side that finds us collapsed on the bathroom floor sobbing hysterically, incapable of pulling ourselves up to trudge through another hour.
The side that leaves us gasping for breath and drives us to the brink of insanity because we don’t know what to do with the pain that’s eating away at our souls and minds.
The side that forces us to check out on family, ditch social functions, and forget appointments.
The side that finds us scouring the web in the middle of the night, looking for understanding, help, and relief.
The side that finds us in our nightgown burrowed under his covers at 3 PM, ignoring the doorbell, telephone, and personal hygiene.
The side that causes us to dread holidays, family pictures, … and waking up.
Yeah, raw grief. The real side. The necessary side. The healing side.
Please know that raw grief is temporary. It feels like it will last forever. It won’t.
It will visit from time to time, but it will always move on. And you will grow stronger.
And despite the empty black hole that you think is your life, you are never, ever alone.
God sits with you in your grief. He suffers with you. He sustains you. And He loves you unconditionally.
He didn’t do this to you. He is there with you.
When you think you can’t possibly lift your head off the pillow or trudge through another day, it is He who does it for you.
Fall into Him. Allow Him to hold you.
Right now —I’m praying fiercely and fervently for you as you schlepp through the sludge of grief. Praying that yours will be expedited, that you will sleep soundly at night, that you will find relief in moments of peace and joy every day, and that you will look to the cross for hope.
God’s got you, friend.
Walking this unwanted journey with you,